Best Kept Secrets
by snarkysweetness
Summary: Everyone has their secrets and Draco is no exception. With Draco’s secret, he is able to cast aside the image everyone expects from him and be himself. And Blaise is the only person who doesn’t judge him. Blaise/Draco, Draco/Pansy, etc.


**Title: **Best Kept Secrets **  
Author: **snarkysweetness**  
Characters/Pairings: **Draco/Blaise, Draco/Pansy, with mentions to Blaise/Tracey and Draco/Tracey**  
Rating: **NC-17 (the fun rating)**  
Warnings: **Infidelity, cross-dressing, slash, fetishes (heels and corsets), spanking, dominance, blowjob, money shots, wanking, bottom-Draco, general smut, dirty talk, wall sex, language, past underage sex, etc. This is just complete filth-I went as far as I could go with this situation. Don't click if you're easily offended. **  
When: **Post-_Deathly Hallows__**  
**_**Summary:** Everyone has their secrets and Draco is no exception. With Draco's secret, he is able to cast aside the image everyone expects from him and be himself. And Blaise is the only person who doesn't judge him.**  
Disclaimer: **Jo owns.I play. Though, I'll gladly take any Weasley (*cough: Charlie*) that she sends my way.**  
Author's Note: **This was written for week 1 of hp_smutday with the prompts of Heels/Boots/Corsets, Valentine's Day, and Infidelity. I was able to get all three prompts into one fic, go me! I've never written Draco, Blaise, or Pansy before. I've also never written slash outside of roleplaying, so thoughts would be appreciated. This is unbeta'ed, so any mistakes are mine.

Wand in the air, an enchantment whispered, and the lacing began to tighten the satin and lace material. Stopping as it became tight enough; the wearer admired the gorgeous piece in the full-sized mirror. It was emerald green, with intricate black vines weaving through. A beautiful, custom piece, made to enhance the beauty of Pansy's bust. The green went well with her pale, creamy skin.

The shoes? Alexander McQueen. Green to match the corset, of course. Four and a half inch heels. And they were perfection. A thing of beauty and at fourteen hundred pounds per pair; Draco would expect nothing but the best.

Feet sliding in slowly, taking the time to enjoy the feeling, a warm flush rose as the feeling of the beautiful items began to become exciting.

Spinning in the mirror, it was indeed perfection. The only accessory missing was a tight black skirt, but tonight was not the night for undergarments or skirts. Only the shoes and the corset. It was all that they needed.

Pushing back a lock of hair, Draco admired his reflection. He did not have the perfect breasts that his wife possessed, but he'd magiced the corset to fit him correctly. The shoes were the perfect size; he'd bought a matching pair behind her back. He loved to fuck her in sexy things, but what she didn't know was that he enjoyed wearing them as well. She could never understand his reasoning, so why would he bother with it?

Every day of his life he'd spent trying to please everyone; his father, his mother, the Dark Lord, and now his wife. His entire life was about appearances. He was the perfect little Death Eater offspring. Draco had the mark, the perfect, doting wife, and soon, he'd provide his family with an heir. He'd always done what was expected of him and sometimes, he hated it.

So when opportunity presented itself, he did this, for himself and to fuck propriety in the arse, quite literally.

It had all began the summer after fifth year when his mum had left out a few items of lingerie to be thrown out (his father was in the dog house). Curious and bored, Draco nicked a few of the items to examine. He'd glimpsed a few of Crabbe's dirty magazines, but none of them featured many items of clothing and he'd been curious as to why they were so appealing.

They were soft, surely. Short enough to provide a teasing view, but not give too much away, which Draco found to be sexy. Who wanted a whore who gave it all away? No, Draco liked to work for it. As much as Pansy had thrown herself at him in school, she'd been surprisingly unwilling to let him lay a hand on her without marriage. A smart, respectable woman. He'd fallen in love with that and the lingerie.

After imagining what a woman would look like in them, his curious mind led him to try a piece on himself, and then he'd been awakened. Every since then, when he could sneak away, he would slip into the beautiful pieces that made him feel more tuned into his sexuality. It was as if they were a light switch. When he wore them he was alive, important, aroused. And there was only so much a woman could do.

One night during his sixth year, near Christmas, the pressure of his task rotting his core, Draco gave in to the need to relieve his tensions. Alone, behind his four poster, he slipped on a pair of red lacy knickers, and lay on his bed, imagining how a woman would feel. He by no means wanted to be a woman, but the way she had to feel during sex fascinated him and his ability to tune into these feelings made him an excellent lover.

Minutes later, with his fist pumping over his cock, the lace tangled between his fingers, aiding his hand, Draco allowed himself to get lost in himself. It didn't happen often. The few times he was able to wank was with his small aids and in his room, which meant being aware of the other boys. But it was Christmas break and Draco wasn't worried about being caught. And it was a good thing that he'd thrown caution to the wind.

"_Oy, Malfoy, you wanking back there or what? I've been calling you for-Bloody Hell."_

_The curtains were pulled back and at the foot of Draco's bed stood Blaise Zabini, staring down at Draco in wonder, not disgust, which intrigued Draco enough not to hex the black man. Instead he sat, as if stunned, fist still wrapped around his cock, panties showing, and Blaise staring at him and licking his lips, as if he'd imagined Draco in such a position before. _

"_Turn around."_

"_What? I will do no such-"_

"_Turn around, Malfoy." Blaise's voice was husky and low, as if he were having trouble speaking. _

_He didn't know what possessed him to take orders for once, he wasn't gay, after all, but something about being dominated at his own will was empowering for Draco. _

_Doing as he was told, Draco turned onto his stomach, dropping the panties from his fingers. _

"_No. Put them on."_

_Draco could hear the sound of Blaise unbuttoning his trousers and removing his belt. His pulse quickened and he sat up, slipping the panties back on, his erection throbbing as it came back in contact with the fabric. _

"_Now, on your knees." The mattress shifted and Blaise moved a hand over Draco's arse, admiring it. Turning his head to look, because Draco couldn't give in that much control, he watched as Blaise pushed down his boxers, his large penis emerging, already slightly hard. Draco tried not to feel intimidated, it wasn't his fault that he had a small penis, after all. It was his father's fault and Blaise was black, they were known for being well endowed. All that mattered was that a man knew how to use what he was stuck with and Draco was confident in those abilities. _

_He watched in wonder as Blaise seemed to grow even larger with each passing stroke. He'd never observed another during this act. It was beautiful and he could have watched for hours were it not for the twitching in his cock. _

_Looking away, because he was 'not gay', Draco willed his body to stopped being so aroused by the fact that his housemate was wanking to the sight of him in women's panties. But it wasn't working; he was itching to resume his earlier activity. Perhaps he could fuck his pillow…or find a way to wank without it being so obvious?_

_Draco didn't have much time to ponder these things because Blaise's fingers pushed the fabric of the panties aside and began lightly stroking the outside of his anus and Draco let out a loud moan. No, not gay, but there was nothing wrong with this? It wasn't as if he was the one fondling Blaise's arse, after all. _

"_That's right, Malfoy, moan for me. I always knew you were a little bitch."_

_And Malfoy didn't do what was expected of him; toss Blaise off of him and show him who was boss. No, instead he let out another moan as Blaise's finger slowly slipped in. It was painful, but the pain was a good pain. The pain in his neglected cock was worse than this pain. _

"_You're my bitch, say it."_

_Draco shook his head. He would NOT say such a thing. Ever._

"_Fine, you asked for it."_

_The pain that Draco felt as Blaise thrust his cock into Draco was comparable to that of the Cruciatus Curse. He bit his lip and began cursing Blaise and promising to kill him. But Blaise ignored him and continued to thrust, over and over until it was no longer painful and until Draco's cries were no longer of protest. _

_Pulling his pillow close, Draco began to thrust along with Blaise, the friction of the lace helping to aid the pain of withholding his release for so long. _

_The moments ticked by and their joined moans were enough to wake the entire castle. Blaise's hand slipped down, taking Draco in his fist. Draco moaned. Blaise's hand was bigger than Draco's and stronger. It wasn't long before he came messily into Blaise's hand, on the panties, and on the pillow. It was a good thing there were cleaning charms for that. The last thing he wanted was for the house elves to find the mess. _

_As Blaise finished, Draco vowed this would be the last time he ever allowed something like this to happen._

But it wasn't. Blaise never spoke a word, never used that night against him, and never spoke of Draco's underwear fetish. Unlike others who would have used it as a way to ruin him, Blaise didn't judge him, which was why it had happened many times over the years.

Draco had no interest in screwing men. He loved his wife, but Blaise understood the real Draco and accepted him and that was something that no one else had ever been able to give him. Combine that with amazing sex and how could he pass it up?

"You're late." Draco turned, realizing too late that his dick had gone hard at the memories. He was fully exposed, wearing nothing but the heels and corset.

"I'm sorry, but it is Valentine's Day. Do you know how hard it was to convince Tracey that I was going to be late because I was picking up her gift and not because I was off shagging my secretary?" Tracey was nothing better than a whore. Draco had had her many times, but she wasn't someone he would have ever married. Blaise was a fool, but she was his beard. She had her affairs, he had hers, and they both put on the show of a proper marriage. And he bought her expensive jewelry.

Draco wished that Pansy didn't dote on Tracey as much as she did, he worried that she would one day figure out that Draco was one of Blaise's men and tell Pansy. If she ever did, she would be dead before she could blink. And no one but Pansy would miss the miserable bitch.

He wished he could say it was easier to hate her to ease his guilt, but the truth was, he didn't have any. He was the master of his house and he would do as he pleased.

"Then I hope you bought her enough diamonds to keep her entertained."

"And your wife?"

"I have no interest in speaking of wives."

Blaise approached him, loosening his tie. "Of course not, not when you're looking so pretty in your new shoes."

"Fuck you."

"Oh, I plan to." Blaise's hand moved over Draco's arse as he admired the outfit. "Against the mirror. I want you to watch me fuck you." Blaise didn't wait for Draco to comply, instead he pressed Draco against the mirror, causing Draco to curse. His erection was uncomfortably forced against the glass. Raising his hand, Blaise spanked Draco hard. "Bend over."

Another spank and then another. Two more until Draco was in the proper position. Arse out, hands on the mirror, face pressed to the glass, and cock dangling free.

Spitting into his palm, Blaise readied himself before finding Draco's cock and stroking him, borrowing his fluids to add to his own. Once he was wet and ready, he wasted no time in entering Draco. Hard and fast.

Balls slapping against flesh, Draco moaned, using one hand to keep himself steady before using the other to stroke himself. They didn't have time for teasing tonight. His dress-up games had been enough.

Blaise groaned and sped up, fucking Draco more forcefully, as if he was trying to fit himself completely inside, which was impossible. They'd tried. There wasn't enough room, but boy, had it felt good to try.

Taking both of Draco's hands over his head, Blaise forcefully pulled himself out of Draco with a loud groan. Pushing Draco onto the floor, he held his hands in place. "Use your mouth."

Glaring up at Blaise, Draco took Blaise in as far as he could, before pumping his mouth over and over. Dick in, dick out. It was sloppy, with no form, just greedy. Blaise tasted salty, much different than Pansy. She had almost a sweet taste. He liked the difference. He swallowed the first seeds of Blaise's release, waiting for him to come into his mouth. He would take it all and enjoy it.

"Not yet," Blaise muttered, pushing Draco's face away from him. With a loud slurp, Draco's mouth released him. "Close your eyes." With confusion, Draco did as he was told, waiting impatiently.

Blaise released Draco's hands and moved his own between his legs, grasping at his member. He'd been close to release, so it wouldn't be long. Pumping away furiously, he let out a small groan as he released himself, all over Draco's face and some of the mirror. With a sigh of satisfaction, he put himself away and tucked in his shirt.

"It's been fun."

"What about me?" Draco protested.

"That's what your wife is for." With a 'pop', Blaise was gone and Draco was stuck on the floor with a bulging erection, in a corset, and with a face covered in jizz. Just great.

"Hello mistress." Shite. The house-elf. Pansy must be home. Kicking off the heels and shoving them underneath their bed, Draco ripped off the corset with help from his wand and restored it to its original condition before running into the bathroom to wash off his face.

"Draco…I told you I was going to wear something new tonight, but if you want, I can wear this…"

Pansy appeared before him, the corset in her hands and a smirk on her face.

"Well, well, I wasn't expecting to find you this ready for me. Should I go and come back then? Let you finish?"

Draco grabbed her and pulled her in, kissing her roughly. She dropped the corset, a moan escaping her lips. "Take it all off, now." He was hard, he was ready, and he was mad. Romance could wait. Who needed a sodding holiday to fuck anyway?

"But Draco-"

"NOW!" He growled. "Or I'll rip it all off."

Pansy didn't need to be told again. She was wearing Isaac Mizrahi, there was no way she would allow him to rip those.

Once she was nude, Draco pushed her against the wall and kissed her, biting her lip as he devoured her tongue. Pansy's fingers found their way into his hair, pulling. Fingers digging into her waist, Draco pushed her legs apart with his knee.

"Do you want me to fuck you? I bet you're already wet, aren't you, slut?"

Pansy's cheeks flushed. "Why don't you find out for yourself, husband?" Draco pinched her clit hard.

"What have I told you? When I fuck you like this, you call me 'Master' or 'Lord'."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes…'Master'." He pinched her again and she cried out. "Fine, fine, Master!"

Draco smirked and slipped a finger between her folds. Just as he thought, she was ready. Good, because he was long overdue.

Hoisting her tiny frame up, Draco entered her quickly. Their lovemaking was quick, loud, and messy. There was no romance in this. Draco wanted to get off, nothing else. Pansy called his name, clenching around him, making him come faster. When he was done with her, he pushed her off of him and sighed. He'd needed that.

One thing he loved about fucking his wife; he always came. There were no games, she was his and he was in control. The other part of himself be damned, he was going to enjoy her.

"Wife, go put on that lingerie you promised me, it is Valentine's Day after all."

Nodding and still stunned from her orgasm, Pansy nodded and left him in the loo.

She would look lovely tonight and the sex would be magnificent. The next time Blaise came looking, he'd be the one dressing up, not Draco. He was going to remain in control for a long while.

Ruffling his hair, he waited to be called in, wanting to give his wife time. He'd have her plenty tonight, there was no more rush. Things would be perfect.

"Draco? Why is there…what were you doing to my mirror?"

And there went his perfection.


End file.
